It Had To Be You
by banananonana
Summary: All this time and everything's changed, but I still feel the same. All good things eventually end and get washed down the drain. What a disaster it would be if you discovered that I cared


Title: It Had to Be You

Fandom: Toy Story 3

Pairing: Sid/Andy

Word Count/Rating: 8,560 WOOO &I'll say hard R.

Summary: It was for the best, but it still stung every time Sid had to face the realization that this is what their lives had come to, not even thirty and divorced and passing a kid back and forth on the weekends, cordial but closed-off towards each other, keeping secrets and details of their everyday lives to themselves.

Disclaimer: I didn't create the characters and I don't own anything, I claim no rights to anything but the plot! Oh, and the title is the same as the Motion City Soundtrack song.

Author's Notes: Um, I don't know what this is. I kind of exclusively listened to Marvin's Room by Drake when I wrote this, so. There's that. Also I wrote this in four hours DON'T JUDGE ME

"I'll pick him up Saturday at six," Sid says, same as every other week, expression of bored indifference making his face look almost haughty as he lingers in the doorway of Andy's apartment, fingers twitching for a smoke as they tap restlessly against his thigh.

"That's fine," Andy says absently, taking Alex's backpack inside with a tired smile. The child in question had already bounded inside and begun babbling about his day at school, rushing off to the playroom for the toys he hadn't seen in four days, leaving Andy and Sid awkwardly in the foyer. Or, more accurately, leaving Andy in the foyer. Sid was still out in the hallway, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stared Andy down. After a minute of silence, Andy says hesitantly, "Do you... want to come in?"

Sid just stares at him intently for a long minute and then gives a short, barking laugh. "No," he says, shaking his head, flicking his hair out of his eyes. He's been growing it out, Andy realizes, eyes darting critically up to Sid's scalp. He's got a much-too-tight t-shirt on, and Andy tries not to stare. "No, I should get going," Sid says softly, and with one last inscrutable look he's turned around and around the corner, disappearing out of the building.

Andy takes a shaky breath and closes the door, composing himself before he calls out to his son. "Alex! Are you hungry?" he shouts, wanting his voice to reach the playroom, but when he turns around, Alex is there, watching him with Sid's eyes.

Andy jumps, surprised, and takes another calming breath. "Jesus, kid," he says, laughing a little, "You almost gave me a heart attack." He puts on a smile that, evidently, does not fool Alex, who is holding Andy's old Woody doll limply by his side, silently giving Andy the look of a disappointed child. It makes Andy's stomach squirm. "What's up, bud?" he asks softly, crouching down to the floor to brush Alex's dark hair out of his eyes. Sid's eyes.

"When are we all gonna live in the same house again, dad?" Alex asks after a long moment, and he looks genuinely confused, like this thing - this two years now, of being separated - is temporary. Like everything will go back to the way it was, if only Alex pesters them enough. Andy is taken aback for a moment, he doesn't quite know how to answer.

"Alex, it doesn't work like that," Andy starts out gently, giving in and finally sitting down on the floor, pulling his son close and looking him in the eye, even though his breath catches every time. "We talked about this, remember?" And they had. In what was easily the most heartbreaking conversation of Andy's entire life, he and Sid had sat Alex down, and explained, in the best terms they could to a four year old, what was happening, and that most importantly, that it was not his fault.

Andy had read a lot of books. He knew how important that was.

Alex sighed, lowering his eyes to the ground. His dark eyelashes swept his cheeks and Andy was grateful. It was spooky, how Sid's cool, dark gaze had been replicated perfectly in Alex. Essentially, Alex was the spitting image of Sid. He looked exactly like him in every way - dark hair, dark eyes, angular features... but there was no doubting that he was Andy's son. He was shy, and quiet, and soft, just like Andy had been as a boy. He didn't have a mean bone in his body, and when Sid had bought him his first black skull t-shirt, he'd rejected it immediately.

"I know," Alex said morosely, "I just thought-" he clamped his mouth shut, shrugging. Andy frowned.

"Thought what?"

"Nothing- just- Dad said-" he then shook his head rapidly, "Never mind. M'not s'posed to tell you."

Though Andy had a burst of annoyance at Sid asking his son to keep secrets from him, he pushed it aside with his curiosity. "Alex," Andy said, his tone the perfect parental mix of gentle and firm. Sid used to always tease him for it, but Andy knew he marveled privately at how Alex always listened to Andy without question. "You can tell me anything."

"Well," Alex starts, looking back up at Andy again. "I heard Daddy talking to Uncle Trevor-"

Andy rolled his eyes, "Alex, Trevor is not your uncle," he reminded him for what felt like the thousandth time. He was Sid's business partner and best friend, and he made Andy's skin crawl. He knew Sid and Trevor were both aware of and amused by the fact that Andy loathed Alex thinking he was related to Trevor, which was why the two of them encouraged the name, and Trevor spoiled Alex rotten.

"Dad!"

"Sorry," Andy muttered, "Continue."

"I heard Daddy talking to Uncle Trevor, and he said-" Alex looking down at his shoes again, holding the Woody doll closer to him this time, absently playing with the doll's vest. Andy waited patiently, though he could feel his heart pounding. "He told Daddy he still-" Alex wrinkled his nose, "-loves you."

Andy exhaled, the sick feeling in his stomach picking back up again. It's a long moment before he says anything. When he does, it's to ask Alex again, "Are you hungry?"

Alex opens his mouth, possibly to expand on the previous conversation, but at a look from Andy he clamps it shut and nods.

"Do you want me to order pizza?" Andy asks, and when Alex nods again, he smiles at his son, ruffling his hair. Alex squirms out of his grip and runs off, the Woody doll bouncing in his grip.

In the empty living room, Andy holds his phone. He should call in the pizza. He should call Sid. He does neither, right away, just stares down into the face of his cellphone until it times out and goes black. A minute later, his fingers move over the keypad independently, and only when he hears the lilting voice of his sister on the other end of the line, sing-songing "Helilo/i?" does he realize what number he's dialed.

"Molly? It's me."

"Hey," she says warmly, and the sound of her voice relaxes Andy the slightest fraction. Molly's in grad school, and she's commuting, living at home with their mom still.

"What are you guys doing? Alex is here, I ordered pizza if you want-"

"Be there in ten," Molly cuts him off, her voice carrying the slightest bit of teasing inflection, always. It never fails to confuse Andy, and the dial tone clicks before he can get another word in. Smiling fondly, he dials the number for Pizza Planet and places the order.

He doesn't call Sid.

"Where's the kid?" Trevor asks Sid when he extends the invitation, voice grainy over the shitty quality of Sid's cellphone as he gets a beer out of the fridge and twists the cap off, drinking deeply from it before answering.

"With Andy," Sid replies, thinking about the mound of candy in the bottom of Alex's backpack and how Andy will lose his shit when he finds it. It was hush money, really - bribery in its early stages. He knew it probably wasn't the best to bribe your six year old son with sugar so that he would keep secrets from his father, but Sid's moral compass had always been questionable at best. Sid drains the rest of his beer, smacking his lips as he slams the empty bottle on the counter. "I just really need to be hammered tonight."

"Hmm," Trevor says, making a thoughtful noise that leaves Sid's eyes rolling. "Are you paying?"

Sid snorts. "Douche. I paid last time."

"I cancelled plans with my girlfriend to go out with you," Trevor points out, and Sid hops up on his own kitchen counter, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder for no apparent reason, both hands now idle.

"Your 'plans' were to go see her strip at the club," he counters with a smirk, and Trevor sounds like he's stifling laughter when he says "Still, still-"

"All right. I'll pay," Sid concedes with a sigh, sounding very much put-out. "Just meet me at nine."

"Aye-aye, Captain," Trevor says, like the idiot he is, and Sid hangs up the phone, getting out another beer.

It's October 23rd. Thirteen years ago today, Sid had kissed Andy for the first time, behind the bleachers after school. Thirteen years. Sid was only twenty-nine, but he suddenly felt very, very old. He rips the label off his beer bottle, and grips the neck too tightly as he takes another drink. He's twenty-nine, and Andy's twenty-eighth birthday is in January. It's not going to be easy, the next coming months. Sid does a quick mental tally-up of all the nights he will need to be hammered. New Year's Eve, the night Andy told him he loved him for the first time, tipsy on champagne and wanting to be kissed out in the snow. Andy's birthday. Valentine's Day. Their anniversary. The two year mark of their separation. Each memory flashes clearly across Sid's brain, but they were happy, back then. All except for that last screaming fight, when Sid had said the words he could never take back, when he had done what he'd made himself promise he'd never do to Andy and forced him away.

Alex's birthday was August 31st, and this year it had passed without incident. His first birthday after Sid and Andy had separated was a disaster. Though Andy had taken Alex and gone to a hotel one rainy night in May, and the wounds were still fresh at the end of the summer, for some reason the two of them had thought they'd be able to put their differences aside for one day to throw Alex a party with both of them there. It took exactly forty-five minutes for the two of them to start screaming at each other, and Andy had thrown a plate at Sid who'd gotten nasty enough that Andy had cried (not in front of Sid; he had too much pride for that, but after - the party was being thrown at Andy's mothers, in her backyard, and after the fight, Andy had stormed upstairs while Sid had gone back outside, and he didn't miss the way Andy rejoined them all an hour later with his sister, nose red and eyes bloodshot).

Overall, it had been a disaster, and for this birthday, Andy did the party thing on his own, and Sid had taken Alex out with Trevor separately. It was for the best, but it still stung every time Sid had to face the realization that this is what their lives had come to, not even thirty and divorced and passing a kid back and forth on the weekends, cordial but closed-off towards each other, keeping secrets and details of their everyday lives to themselves.

Maybe that was what Sid had missed the most about being with Andy. Besides the obvious of just ibeing/i with Andy (the way his hair tickled Sid's cheek in the morning, whatever Andy put in his scrambled eggs to make them taste so damn good, the way he needed extra blankets and Sid's arms tight around him during a thunderstorm) he hated not knowing every detail of Andy's day; what he'd done at work and who he'd spoken to and the way his eyes would light up with excitement over something that was important to him.

Sid felt like an outsider, with Andy now, and he hated that. There was nothing worse than that confused why-do-you-give-a-shit look that Andy would give him whenever Sid asked him anything too-specific about his life. There was nothing more awful than having to ask Trevor, who still spoke to mutual friends of SidandAndy, for Andy News. It was pathetic, and Sid couldn't stand himself sometimes.

He wasn't sure how long he sat in the dark and contemplated his life, but when he looked down at his phone to check the time, he realized Andy's number had been half dialed against his will, muscle memory typing it out on the worn numbers of his phone. Sid scoffed, and tossed his phone away, heading for the shower.

He just needed to be hammered tonight, was all.

It wasn't until after Alex was well into his afternoon nap that Andy had the chance to talk to his mom and Molly, ireally/i talk to them.

"So what's up, bro?" Molly had asked finally, exasperated with Andy relentlessly beating around the subject with inane questions about school and her friends. Andy's mother looked on in concern and Andy took a deep breath.

"Alex overheard Sid tell Trevor he's still in love with me," he said, meaning for it to come out careful but blurting it instead, Molly's eyes going wide in shock.

"Oh, honey," Andy's mother sighed, looking over at him with what looked like pity to Andy.

"What?" he asked defensively. "I'm not- it doesn't ichange/i anything, I just." He shrugged. "Should I say something to him? Tell him Alex told me?"

"Yes!" Molly shouted immediately, at the same time that Mrs. Davis began shaking her head. "Mom!" Molly shrieked, looking at her like she had six heads. "What is iwrong/i with you?"

Ignoring Molly, Andy's mother turned towards him to address him directly. "Andy, honey, I just don't want to see you get hurt again," she said softly.

And there it was. The sharp reminder that he was getting his hopes up to get let down. Again.

"I know," Andy sighed. "I know that. But you guys... don't know what it's like. It's been two years and today Alex asked me when we were all going to live in the same house again." He heard a sharp intake of breath, though who it was from, he couldn't say. After a long moment of silence, Andy says quietly, "I'd try again with him."

"Do you still love him?" Molly asks suddenly, eyeing Andy from the other couch, legs folded in under herself.

It didn't even take ten seconds before Andy was nodding. Slowly, resigned. His mom sighed. "Oh, Andy," she said again, shaking her head, and Andy swallowed hard, looking at the ground.

He should call Sid.

Sid's not proud of it, but he's looking to get laid, at the club, too.

There was a time, right after the divorce, when Sid thought he could fuck missing Andy right out of his system. Then there was a long period of celibacy when he realized it wasn't working, and then he got to where he is now; thinking that if he fucks enough Andy look-a-likes, enough cheap Andy knock-offs, that missing Andy will stop. The desire he feels for Andy will go away.

It hasn't. It isn't even quieter. If anything, fucking enough twinks with eyes no where near as blue just makes the iyearning/i he has for Andy intensify.

He's in the hallway of the club, back behind the bathrooms, far enough away from the thumping music and pleasantly drunk out of his mind, a guy with soft, brown hair, and pale blue eyes pressed between Sid and the wall, Sid biting into his mouth, when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket against his thigh.

Sid ignores it in favor of shoving his hand down the other guy's pants, and his moans underneath Sid are all wrong, so Sid keeps him quiet with his mouth. His phone rings twice more and is silent.

Ten minutes later, Trevor finds them. He's hammered, at least twice as drunk as Sid, and laughing wildly. "I'll get him, I've got'im, here," he's slurring into the mouthpiece before he pushes at Sid's shoulder and shoves the phone at him.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Sid demands, but Trevor just shrugs, grinning goofily at him.

"S'Andy," he says, shaking the phone in Sid's face. "Hey, who's this-"

He turns to the guy Sid had been making out with and starts drunkenly questioning him, demanding things Sid doesn't want to know and doesn't care about, like his full name, and what he does, and the implications of what Trevor had said sink in. Sid blinks down at the phone. iIt's Andy./i He's suddenly, inexplicably nervous.

"Hello?"

"Sid- hey, it's me," he says unnecessarily, "I tried calling you-" the rest of whatever he said is lost in the noise of the club and Trevor arguing something with Sid's attempted fuck, and Sid scowls at them, taking off down the hallway towards the back exit.

"Andy, hold on, I can't hear you," he practically shouts, navigating his way through the crowd expertly before he bursts out a door and into a back alleyway. The first thing he hears, through the tinny speaker, is,

"Are you drunk?"

"A little," Sid says immediately, honestly, and then winces. That's always been one of his tells. When he's drunk, he can't refuse Andy anything. His filter is gone. His walls, seemingly insurmountable, have disappeared.

"Where are you?" Andy asks, sounding exasperated.

"At a club with Trevor," he laughs hysterically, "Do you know that the first time I kissed you was thirteen years ago today?"

It's said in a rush and Sid bites down on his tongue the second the words have left his mouth. He wishes he could take them back, but then they're both silent, nothing but the sound of Andy's breath. Sid leans against the brick wall and closes his eyes. "Andy," he sighs out, "Andy, Andy, Andy."

"Sid, I have to tell you something-"

"Me too, Andy," Sid says seriously, sounding very much like a person on their way to their execution. "See, the thing is-"

At that moment, Trevor bursts through the back door of the club and reclaims his phone, still grinning that idiotic, triumphant grin. "Hey Andy! Where'd you go?"

"Trevor, give that back, you fucking piece of shit," Sid spits, heart hammering, drunkenly trying to take the phone back but Trevor skips out of his reach, laughing.

"Come out here and tell him yourself," Trevor is saying, "weren't you just kissing him in the bathroom?"

Sid's heart stops. The grin slides off Trevor's face. "Oh," he says dumbly, and then, without another word, passes the phone back to Sid, looking at him in apprehension. Sid glares at Trevor and presses the phone back to his ear with shaking hands.

"Andy," he starts, "I wasn't-"

"I don't care." Andy bites out, and if Sid were a little more sober, he might be able to read his tone. "I'd ask you to say goodnight to your son, but..." he trails off meaningfully, and Sid swallows down something bitter. "Have fun," Andy says coolly, and not even Sid's desperate, "Wait, wait," is enough to stop the dial tone from coming.

Andy watches the clock from the kitchen table.

5:58.

He has his hands wrapped around a coffee mug, but it's empty. Alex is in the other room, collecting his things to bring with him for the weekend.

It's Saturday.

Sid will be here soon.

5:59.

He's tried to call Andy seventeen times in the past three days, but Andy hasn't answered once. Trevor tried a couple times as well, or, more likely, Sid trying from Trevor's phone, and Andy has just as many voicemails sitting in his inbox, unlistened to.

He doesn't want to hear it. Andy's just stopped being so, so angry. He hasn't been out since before he had Alex. And it's not fair. It is so horribly unfair, that Sid can go out and get wasted and hook up with guys that are not Andy, and Andy is at home, talking to his mother about his ex and actually considering swallowing his pride based on the fallacies of his six year old son. It is so unfair that Andy is sick with it.

6:02.

The doorbell rings.

Andy stands up and answers it immediately, abandoning the empty coffee cup on the counter. Without him even saying anything, Sid pushes his way inside. He reeks of smoke. His hands are shaking. "Andy, hey," he says quickly, and Andy takes a step back.

"Alex!" he shouts, "Your father is here."

Alex bounds into the room and latches himself onto Sid's legs. "Dad!" he exclaims, jumping, looking to be picked up. Sid obliges, trying for a smile that isn't quite successful. "Hey, kiddo," he says, squeezing Alex before putting him down. "Got all your stuff?"

"Yep," Alex starts, grinning, "What are we gonna do this weekend? There's this movie out that this girl at school was telling me about and it looks iso cool/i-"

"Sounds great," Sid says, crouching down and ruffling Alex's hair. "Can you give me and your dad a minute real quick?"

Alex nods rapidly, eyes wide, and scampers off. When Sid stands back up, his gaze is nervous. "Stop getting his hopes up," Andy snaps at Sid, crossing his arms. iStop getting my hopes up./i

"Andy," Sid says again, taking another step closer, "I really do need to talk to you."

He reaches for Andy's hand, and Andy's body betrays him by pulling it away too late, after Sid's already made contact and Andy's body is tingling from the touch. "I have nothing to say to you."

"You don't have to say anything, then," Sid shoots back, getting that frustrated type of short with him that he always does when he feels like he's being misunderstood, "Just listen."

Andy's silent, staring coolly at Sid.

"I'm sorry," Sid says, voice raspy from what Andy recognizes is chain smoking. "I- why did you call me, in the first place?"

Andy's cheeks heat. "Doesn't matter, now," he says, shaking his head and averting his gaze to the floor. Sid takes another step closer, close enough to put his fingers on Andy's chin and tip it up to meet his gaze. Sid's eyes threaten to make his knees buckle, but he stays strong.

"Why," Sid repeats slowly, not really inflecting it like a normal question, "did you call me?"

"Alex overheard you talking to Trevor," Andy breathes back; Sid knows all of his weaknesses just like Andy knows his, even after everything. Sid's breath catches and his eyes shutter off, stepping back away from Andy.

"About what?" he asks Andy casually, too casually. Andy, still flushed from Sid so close with his hands on him, narrows his eyes at Sid.

"You know what."

"I don't have time to play games with you, Andy," Sid says defensively. "Alex! It's time to go," he avoids looking at Andy as Alex skips back into the room, and Sid hoists his backpack onto his shoulders, takes Alex by the hand, and leaves, their son waving back over his shoulder at Andy and looking at him with Sid's eyes, more sad than Andy has ever seen them.

A year passes without incident, and Andy starts dating someone else.

Sid fucking hates him.

His name is Kevin, and iKevin/i loves baseball and iKevin/i is teaching his son to throw a curveball and iKevin/i is leaving hickeys on Andy's skin and iKevin/i is in Andy's apartment on Saturday nights at 6, cooking Andy dinner and smiling at him while Andy winds a scarf around Alex's neck, Sid feeling out of place with this perfect picture, the outsider standing by the door.

The only thing that keeps him sane, most days, is that Alex looks so much like him. If he didn't, Sid would hardly know he was his kid. He didn't think he'd be able to deal with it if Alex was the spitting image of Andy. If, god forbid, Alex had inherited Andy's eyes? Sid didn't know if he could ever look at him. He wasn't sure how Andy did it - but if there were two things Sid had learned over the course of the past year, it was that Andy was a much stronger person than Sid, and that Andy was over him.

Sid was just a mistake, to Andy, now. A dumb thing he did when he was young that he could laugh about with iKevin./i

Alex had stopped asking when the three of them would be a family again.

"Promise me you'll do all your homework," Andy pleads, zipping up Alex's jacket to his chin and laughing despite himself when Alex squirms out of his grip, tugging the zipper down.

"No promises," he grins cheekily, flicking his impossibly long hair out of his eyes. There is so much of Sid in that moment that he grins with pride, eyes unwillingly seeking out Kevin's, happily puttering along in the kitchen, Sid's grin deflating when Kevin doesn't seem bothered at all. That was just one thing to add to the list of shit Sid hated about him, he was no fun to fuck with.

Sid thinks he will always remember what happened next with stunning vivacity. He had looked down to see Andy giving Alex a hug, and smiled softly. When Alex pulled away, Sid held out his hand, ready to lead him out of the apartment, but Alex ran to the kitchen first and threw himself at Kevin, who laughed with an ioof,/i picking Alex up and spinning him around before setting him on the ground, grinning at him. "Have fun," Kevin told him, winking, and Alex laughed. The sight made Sid sick.

"You okay?" Andy asked him quietly as Alex walked back towards the door. "You look pale."

"Fine," Sid said sharply, turning and leaving. And even though Alex's hand didn't leave his the whole way back to his apartment, Sid's other hand couldn't stop shaking in his pocket as the image played on loop in his mind, Kevin hugging Alex, Kevin smiling at Andy, Kevin making the two of them happy and a family and doing everything Sid couldn't.

He laid awake all night that night, wondering, in morbid fascination, what Kevin and Andy were doing. If they were fucking. If Kevin was fucking Andy, if he was doing half as good a job as Sid used to.

Sex was the one area they'd never had a problem in. They'd never gone beyond gentle bickering in bed ("fuck me harder" - "so idemanding,/i") and all fights seemed to lead them right back to the bedroom. There was never a problem that couldn't be worked out with sex, and Sid wondered if Andy ever thought about him, while Kevin was in him. Wondered how similarly they fucked Andy, wondered if Kevin could last longer than him.

Sid figured he probably couldn't.

It was 1:03 AM. Surely they'd gone to bed. Sid was thirty, now, and Andy not far behind. He was sure Andy and Kevin didn't stay up all night, talking and kissing, like he used to with Sid. And there it was again. That grotesque curiosity that got him to wonder if Andy acted the same with Kevin as he used to act with Sid, to wonder if Kevin had located the spot on the back of Andy's neck that you have to bite when you're fucking him behind to get him to come, and before Sid knew it, he was half-hard and disgusted with himself.

He rolls over and snatches his phone off the nightstand and calls Andy.

Andy's phone rings thirteen times before it goes to voicemail. This is something Sid has come to know. Tonight, Sid counts. It rings twelve times and then there is a long pause. Finally, a groggy voice, and the sound of blankets shifting reaches Sid's straining ears. "Sid?" A yawn. The sound of Sid's blood rushing in his head, his heart pounding wildly.

"Yeah," Sid says roughly. "S'me."

The sound of a door closing. Presumably, Andy leaving the room so he won't wake up Kevin. Sid is going to throw up. "Is everything all right?" Andy asks, sounding more alert. "Is Alex okay?"

"Alex is fine," Sid says in a rush, "He's asleep. Everything's fine. I just..." he clears his throat. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Okay," Andy says slowly, and Sid can picture that awful look on his face again. "About anything in particular?"

iNo,/i Sid wants to say, iI just missed the sound of your stupid voice./i The words are on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them. "Forget it," he says, mouth dry, "this was stupid, and I woke you up, I'll just go-"

"No," Andy says softly, "It's okay. Let's, um. Let's just talk?"

Sid exhales, scrubbing his free hand over his face. He relaxes against the pillows, finally, nodding and closing his eyes. "Okay. Okay. How's Kevin?"

Andy laughs, like the question surprises him. "He's okay. I don't know."

Sid raises his eyebrows in the darkness of his room, and is silent. Patient.

"It's different," Andy says carefully. He and Kevin have been dating for four months now. Hardly anything. Sid had him for eleven years, once. And he's only thirty.

"Different?" Sid repeats, questioning. It's something Trevor had taught him once. A way to get information out of people without making them think that you're prying. Repeat what they say and it reminds them they offered up the information themselves. Psychology, or some shit. The point is, it works. Every time.

"Different from you," Andy exhales, and that draws Sid up short.

"Oh," he says dumbly, grimacing when he realizes it. iOh? You're an idiot./i

"Sorry, that was- I shouldn't've-"

"I miss you," Sid blurts, because he's tired, and it's true.

Andy's quiet for a long moment. "You see me at least twice a week," he says finally, and Sid makes a frustrated noise, quieting himself when he remembers Alex is asleep in the room next door.

"You know that's not what I mean."

"Then what ido/i you mean?" Andy asks, like he- like he doesn't know.

"What the fuck do you think I mean?" Sid demands, scowling into the dark. "I miss being imarried/i to you-"

"We were never really married," Andy starts, sound so very, very tired. He has a point, but it's minute. They were never technically married, recognized by the state, whatever, but

"We were as good as."

Silence. Rough breathing.

"I can't do this right now. Kevin's going to wake up."

"God forbid I wake Kevin up," Sid mutters bitterly, and Andy sighs but says nothing.

After a long, long silence, just as Sid opens his mouth to repeat again that this call was a mistake and he should hang up, Andy says,

"It's too late. You're too late. The apology... everything."

Hearing that is like being punched in the stomach.

"I should've never-" he starts, voice choked. He shakes his head. He can't do this either. Sid squeezes his eyes shut. His cheeks burn, he can't face himself when he asks, "If it weren't for Kevin, would you try again with me?" He sounds pathetic.

Andy's so quiet Sid is sure he's hung up the phone. "It's not fair to either of you to answer that," he finally gets out, little more than a whisper.

Sid swallows the lump in his throat. "Okay," he says, "Okay, I'm just gonna- night, Andy," he rushes out, and hangs up the phone before Andy can protest. He feels restless, then, even moreso than before. He'd been kind of hoping Andy would talk him to sleep, and he wonders what Andy will do now. Stay out of bed until the sun's up, or slip back in, lay down next to Kevin, share his pillow and drift off like nothing even happened.

Sid steps out onto the balcony and chain smokes until dawn. When Alex wakes up, Sid makes him pancakes and has him talk to him for hours about everything and nothing. Alex doesn't mention Kevin or Andy once, and it's okay. It'll be okay.

When Sid drops Alex off on Wednesday, both of them are sporting identical buzz cuts and wide smiles. Andy's jaw drops.

"Where's all your hair?" he asks no one in particular, trying not to smile. Alex looks at him very seriously and says

"It was time for a change," in a way that makes Andy laugh on the outside, but. On the inside, he knows those are Sid's words, and their implications make him nervous.

Kevin saves him then, rushing into the room and scooping up Alex, making him laugh. "Hey! Get a hair cut?"

Alex grins even wider, "No, I got them all cut." Kevin laughs, even though the joke is stupid, and Andy is profoundly happy in that moment. His smile fades, though, when he sees the blatantly sour expression on Sid's face. Truth be told, Andy is happier for Alex's presence than normal. It's selfish, but he and Kevin had been fighting ruthlessly in the days following Sid's midnight phone call, and Alex's presence seems to have calmed things down. Though Andy knows it was his own fault - he'd been picking every fight they had, over nothing at all. He tries to lie to himself for a moment, to pretend like he doesn't know why he's trying to sabotage his own relationship, but the churning in his stomach at Sid's dark facial expression won't allow him to do so. He knows.

When Sid turns to leave, Andy follows him out in the hall, mouthing ione sec/i to Kevin and pulling the door to the apartment shut behind him. Sid seems momentarily surprised, but his mask is back up nanoseconds later. "What's up?" he asks dismissively.

Andy lowers his voice, not sure where Kevin and Alex are inside the apartment. The walls are thin, and if they're still in the living room, they'll be able to hear. "We need to talk about the other night," he starts, but Sid is already shaking his head and pulling away.

"No," he says shortly, "we don't."

Andy puts out his hand and grabs onto Sid's arm to stop him from leaving, and Sid's gaze flashes, angry. Andy isn't deterred.

"I just," Andy starts, and he knows how vulnerable he probably looks, but can't bring himself to care, only hope that Sid won't break him, not here. "I don't know what to do. You- after all this time-"

"You're an idiot," Sid hisses suddenly, wrenching his arm away. He looks desperate for Andy to understand. "I never istopped-/i"

"-and now there's Kevin," Andy continues, as if Sid hasn't even spoken. "And I'm not sure what you'd like me to do here, Sid-"

"Andy," Sid blinks, stopping short and grabbing onto the other man's shoulders. "Did you hear a word I just said?" Andy is silent, blinking back. Sid rolls his eyes, and his head jerks the slightest bit - the movement a habit from when his hair was longer and he would flick it out of his eyes. "I never fell out of love with you," he says, his dark, dark gaze burning into Andy's skin. "I iwill/i never- I can't just turn this on and off with you, Andy, fuck!" he finishes, taking his hands off Andy and pushing him away a little as he does. He spins around, exasperated, and runs a hand over his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I wish I could," he says, looking down the empty hallway. "I wish I could fucking turn it off because it sucks but I ican't/i-"

He's stopped by a gentle clearing of the throat. It's Kevin.

"Alex is asking for you," he says to Andy, and the look in his eyes is inscrutable. He doesn't look mad, which is the strangest thing of all.

"Thanks," Andy says smiling, "I'll be in in a second." Kevin shoots him A Look but disappears back inside, and Sid already has his pack of cigarettes in one shaking hand.

"Just call me, okay?"

Andy nods, dumbly, wanting to say something else - anything else - namely, something unbridledly cheesy, likei I never stopped loving you either/i, but he turns around and goes inside instead.

.

The next day, Andy comes home from work on his lunch hour to find Kevin packing up his things. Andy stops in the doorway and then slams the door shut behind him as he walks inside, alerting Kevin to his arrival. "What's going on?" he asks, frowning. "What are you doing?"

"Hey," Kevin says gently, "I didn't know you were coming home." He reaches out and touches Andy's shoulder. "Can we talk?"

"What the fuck," Andy says, but he sits down on the couch in between Kevin and a box labelled ishoes./i

"I'm moving out," Kevin says, and Andy just stares at him, because, like, no shit. "I really think this is for the best," he says slowly, like he's trying to get Andy to understand second grade math. "You and Sid-"

"There's nothing going on between me and Sid," Andy says, and the words taste like lies, the exact same way iyou're too late/i had felt.

"Andy," Kevin says, and gives him his best c'mon-don't-fuck-around-with-me look.

"What," Andy shoots back, scowling. "There iisn't./i"

"Okay," Kevin placates, holding his hands out in front of himself. "Let's say there isn't. But you two still have a history - a huge one. And you have a kid. And I heard him say that he still loves you with my own ears. And I'm not going to be the guy that splits up a family." Kevin's eyes are nothing but kind. "I'm not mad - and obviously I'm still going to want to see Alex, but I think we both know it's time for me to just be Uncle Kevin who visits on the weekends."

Andy took a shaky breath in. There was a sharp pain in his stomach, but he realized it wasn't actually from the break up - it was the truth of Kevin's words, finally hitting him. "Shit," Andy says, falling back against the couch in disbelief. He scrubs a hand over his face, blinking at the floor. "Shit," he says again, voice softer, ending in a sigh.

He swivels his head to look at Kevin then, feeling his own desperation. "Kev, I don't- what do I ido/i?" he asks, sure he looks as lost as he sounds. Kevin's eyes soften.

"You have a lot of history, Andy," he repeats, though that isn't exactly an answer. Though, Andy supposes, it's close enough.

Andy hasn't called, and Sid has never felt more like complete shit.

He's angry at himself, beyond belief. What the fuck was he thinking, spilling his fucking guts to Andy like - like what did he expect? Some admission of true love? Some reciprocation of the awful, third grade head-over-heels feeling Sid harbors for Andy? He should have known better.

Because the thing is - all these parts of Sid, the parts he so clearly laid out on the line for Andy, these are all parts of Sid he's kept inside, buried in as far as possible, for no one to know about. Sid thought he could take it to the grave, how Andy was the beginning and end of every single molecule of himself, but he exploded. And that sickens him more than anything, more than having it all thrown back in his face. The knowledge that he did it to himself is too much.

Sid can't be mad at Andy. He did this to himself.

All of it.

Everything.

He hasn't dared to hope in two days, but then again, Andy is his own personal miracle, and at 9:35 Sid's phone rings.

"Hey," Andy says immediately, sounding tired, and soft, "I just put Alex to bed. Kevin broke up with me and moved out yesterday, which is why I didn't call."

"It's okay, I- wait, iwhat?/i" Sid demands, registering the sentence in the middle too late. "He broke up with you? Is he crazy?" Sid digs the nails of his right hand into his left forearm, gritting his teeth. He hasn't dared to hope in two days, and he won't start now.

"It's not important," Andy laughs, still sounding so, so tired. "It's not important because I'm not in love with Kevin. I could never be in love with Kevin-"

-and Sid's heart is surely about to beat its way out of his chest any second now-

"-the way I am with you."

His mouth drops open. And closes. And drops open again. "You- Andy-"

"Sid," Andy says, speaking quickly like he does when they're an hour and ten minutes into the movie and he's just worked out the rest of the plot, "we wasted three years and I was so unhappy-"

"Shh," Sid cuts him off right away, soothing. "Hey. It's not important," he repeats Andy's words from earlier. "It doesn't matter 'cause we're not gonna do that anymore." Andy's harsh breathing is calming, and Sid is grateful for the phone connection, that Andy can't see him sweat and shake and the absolutely panicked look of terror on his face. "Okay? You hear me?"

"I hear you," Andy says quietly, and then, "Come over? Please?"

Sid, never one to be able to deny Andy anything, says, "On my way," before the last word even reaches him.

It was stupid not to make Sid stay on the phone with him, talk to him during the drive, keep him sane. Andy realizes this now. Since the second he'd hung up the phone, Andy had been pacing restlessly around the living room of his apartment, ringing his hands and laughing deliriously into the empty space, sick with nervousexcited anticipation. He wonders what he will possibly have to say to Sid when he opens the door, but it turns out worrying was a waste of his time, because Sid is enveloping him in a kiss the second Andy throws the door open, pushing his way inside, inside, inside, his tongue parting Andy's lips and moaning into his mouth and "Fuck, missed this so much," slurring already like he's drunk off the taste of Andy.

"Missed - youtoo," Andy gasps, fisting the front of Sid's shirt and hauling him in as close as possible, every inch of them from shoulder to calf molded together so they can attack one another's mouths before Andy is propelled into action and starts walking them backwards towards his bedroom.

Sid goes with it at first, pulling away when his back hits the bed Andy's pushed him down on, but as soon as Andy starts trying to tear his shirt off, he half sits up, struggling to calm Andy's frantic hands, and shakes his head, swallowing. "Hey, Andy, hey-" he starts, leaning up on his elbows, and his cheeks are pink. Andy stares, fascinated. "We don't have to do this," Sid says, cocking his head to the side and regarding Andy like he's the only person in Sid's world.

"I want to," Andy tells him, and Sid doesn't question it. Andy's always been one to know what he wants, that was never the problem. Sid lays back down and it's like he hasn't interrupted at all, Andy immediately returns to the desperation he'd exercised before, ripping Sid's shirt over his head and ducking back down for another bruising kiss.

"You taste the same," Sid notes, staring up at Andy with something akin to wonderment.

"You've gotten hotter," Andy breathes back with a grin, sliding his hands up and down Sid's now-exposed arm muscles with his eyes half-lidded.

Sid just laughs, protests futile, and runs a hand through Andy's hair while simultaneously divesting him of his shirt, never wanting to stop kissing him. Andy's lips are soft and perfect and setting off every sensory memory Sid had tried so hard to repress for the past three years.

When he slides his thumbs over Andy's nipples Andy moans for him in the same sweet tone and Sid grins as wide as his face will allow, positively giddy. "Miss me?" he asks, just to be a dick.

But Andy just nods, head jerking back and forth rapidly. "So much," he says vehemently. He means it. Sid knows.

"Kevin never touched you like this, did he?" Sid asks softly, dragging his nails slowly down to Andy's hips, tracing his finger tips lightly over the front of Andy's jeans.

"No," Andy chokes out, shaking his head, and it's the magic word. Sid unbuttons his pants and pushes them down, Andy stepping out of them shakily. Sid eyes him, all of him. He's still the best looking thing Sid's ever seen. He reaches down to get his own pants off and then when they're both only in their underwear does Sid flip them over so he can be on top, bracketing his forearms on the sides of Andy's shoulders and leaning down to kiss him again, unable to leave the general vicinity of his mouth.

Sid grinds his hips down and Andy moans again, hard against Sid's hip, and when he pulls back to look, seeping wet into his briefs. Sid grins, rocking his hips. "Did you ever think about me when you were fucking him?" he growls, and Andy's eyes flutter shut, his breathing shallowing out.

"Si-id, I-"

"You let him fuck you, but you were pretending it was me, wishing it had been me, letting him mark you up and knowing I'd see-"

"Sid, fuck, Sid," Andy hisses, thrusting his own hips back up desperately, rutting against Sid with two layers of cotton between them, craving skin-to-skin contact. "I-"

"Shh," Sid demands, stilling his hips and focusing on sucking a trail of small but vicious bruises from the underside of Andy's jaw down to his collarbone, tempted to make an iS/i shape but forgoing the idea in favor of pushing their underwear down and taking both of their cocks in his hand and pressing them together, jerking them off slow. He pants against Andy's neck, and then confesses, "Every time he went near you I wanted to punch him in the face," voice raspy like it's taking everything inside of him to grit that sentence out between clenched teeth.

"Fuck!" Andy moans out, trembling beneath Sid has he pulls his hand away to lick his palm and then work it back in, too desperate for anything beyond Andy thrusting his hips up and Sid jerking them both off in one rough grip. Andy feels so good against him and it's been so long, Sid can't fucking help himself.

"Did you think about me?" he asks again, slowing his hand down. His heart pounds, and Andy twists around beneath him.

"Sid, please, I-" he squirms around and Sid uses his forearm to lean across Andy's hips, pressing him down and into the bed with his strength. Andy moans louder than Sid's ever heard him, and he has never been more grateful for a kid that sleeps like the dead "never stop thinking about you," Andy finishes in a gasp, and that's enough, it's enough, it's enough for Sid to come, crying out and biting down on Andy's shoulder hard enough to possibly break skin and definitely hard enough for him to immediately come all over Sid's hips and stomach with a broken-sounding sob.

"Shit," Sid pants, licking the abused skin, wiping his hand on the bed sheets. He presses his face into Andy's neck and, emboldened, mumbles "fuckin' love you," against the skin there. Andy shakes harder and Sid knows he's heard, smiles and presses a soft kiss to Andy's sweatsalty skin when he replies, "Love you back."

They do it right this time in the form of a small ceremony that takes place in the backyard of the new house they've bought, a ceremony where Alex wears a white tuxedo and brings the rings up on a satin pillow, standing beside Andy when he promises to love Sid for the rest of his life and then some.

Sid's eyes shine, even though they don't move from Andy's face for the entire ceremony. Andy finds it extremely difficult not to get emotional, though he knows Molly and his mother are openly weeping, holding each other in the front row. It is August, two weeks before Alex's birthday and swelteringly hot for a wedding in a garden, Sid's hair sticking out at the temples and Andy's curling around his ears, but it is perfect.

After the kiss, (which is a spectacle all on its own - after checking to make sure Molly's got the camera ready, Sid grins and dips Andy low enough to make him quasi-stumble, plundering his mouth in an Old Hollywood-esque kiss that leaves their friends laughing) instead of departing down the aisle alone, hand in hand, like they did the first time they tried this out, young and selfish and naive, Sid scoops Alex up into his arms and then places him on his shoulders, and the three of them depart together, a perfect silhouette of a happy family in the sunlight, ready for whatever life can throw at them next, ready for anything that may be to come.

Andy smiles. Sid reaches over and fixes his hair, and Alex leans down and messes it back up again.


End file.
